Legally Virgin 2
by Dancing Feather
Summary: This time someone's taking it. You may now weep for Germany. Or cheer, depending on your point of view. :oneshot, sequel to another story sharing the same title, but without the 2:


Hetalia owns Hidekaz Himaruya, but not in that order. Lousy story telling would love to be addressed, along with any misspells/grammatical/historical/errors/OOC-ness. You don't need to read the last one to understand this one, they are both running on romantic satire/parody. This one has less action than the first, depending on how you look at it.

I have no manly shame.

* * *

**Legally Virgin 2: The Virgin Strikes Back!**

The last world meeting took a number on Ludwig, and that number was two. It took that many Italians (one very reluctant) to drag his carcass- I mean, his body to a suitable room to rest. "What was it this time?" Feliciano's brother groused, rolling his eyes in great lack of sympathy. "Were a few papers not in filing order? Did he realize no one cares, if maybe, things were not a hundred _and ten_ percent perfect?"

"No, and don't put it like that!" Feliciano whined, hugging his comatose German on the couch. Right now, his head laid on Feliciano's lap, looking somewhat peaceful. Being unconscious can do that to you. "It's just some people we know have been deflowered as of late-"

"...and he thinks it was you?" Lovino finished.

"Sorta!" He gave a meek smile, before thinking a bit more. "No..." He frowned. "Maybe?" Lovino groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Was it you?" Another moment of silence as he waited for Feliciano to think it over.

"Not that I am aware of." Feliciano shrugged, Lovino hit his face with his hand. His hand not being firm enough to satisfy, he immediately head-butted the wall behind him. The wall, being an inanimate object, did not find this fair.

"That's nice, great. Really nice." He leaned up against the abused wall shifting nearby an open door. For escape purposes, obviously. His arms were crossed, because naturally, he was cross.

Perhaps I abuse the English language too much.

"No, it's not nice!" Not getting it, Feliciano began to tear up.

"That was sarcasm, stupid-"

"Wah!" He began weeping into his overly large, blue cuffs. "I told him I was a virgin! Now he'll think I'm tossed goods!"

It was official, Lovino didn't want to be in the room anymore. But he wasn't going to leave when the problem could be so easily fixed (_By getting rid of potato-head_, he thought). He hated when his brother cried- I mean, he hated his brother. _Of course, I'm going to regret trying anyways... _He sighed, "You only told him you were virgin because you were going to get shot." He waved it off. "Anyone will say anything to not get shot. He probably never thought you were anyways."

"No!" Feliciano gasped, looking honestly shocked.

"Please!" Lovino gritted his teeth. "To think Italians our age haven't been laid is like saying Kiku isn't a pervert and Arthur isn't a closet case about his hundred plus year yo-yo relationship with Francis."

"B-b-but..."

"Augh..." Eyes shut, he rubbed his temple. "What?"

"I w-w-wanted him to think I s-saved myself for him!" Lovino blushed, disgusted with what Feliciano bawled out as if he were in a Spanish soap-opera. It was starting to sound like one, except there was a lack of a woman in a bed cheating on her boyfriend with his best friend. Unless you changed that girl into France... Lovino's stomache turned in revulsion, it _was_ a Spanish soap-opera.

_I hate you Antonio!_ He mentally shouted out to the Spaniard. Antonio, not having mind reading powers, did not get the message.

His brother still crying, Lovino decided to call it quits. "Who gives a damn?" He shouted above the noise, placing his hands on his ears. "Screw this, I'm out of here!" Feliciano flinched as his brother slammed the door as hard as he possibly could. Sniffing, he looked down to Ludwig.

"You wouldn't love me any less, would you?"

The German did not respond.

First gathering his bearings, Feliciano wiped his face trying to reassure himself that the German in his possession would still be in his possession by the end of the day. As in, Ludwig would still want to be around him, and not still unconscious. Because if that were the case, something was wrong terminally.

Not being a very stationary person at heart (not that anyone truly was, inanimate hearts tend to cause death), Feliciano was starting to feel restless being pinned down by Ludwig's weight. Still a bit sulky and not wishing to stay in a bad mood, he attempted to cheer himself up. First playing with Ludwig's stiff hair and making it stick in funny places. That's what you get for wearing hair gel. What is the hair gel suppose to represent anyways? Adelsheim? Has anyone seen their coat of arms? It looks like a freaking sea slug.

I'm sure sea slugs sells well at tourists shops.

When Ludwig's hair began to resemble a certain muscle bound, ball searching, fighting anime, Feliciano began tugging at his perfectly ironed, silk tie.

"Beh~ All of this tight clothing must be uncomfortable..."

So he started to undress his comrade. If there was any logic in this story to start with, it was certainly lost now. He was working on the undershirt when Ludwig came to. Came to what? Possibly a conclusion.

"I-Italy?" With each light blue blink the world came in more focus. And more chilly.

"Oh, Germany!" The Italian gave him a carefree smile. "Are you feeling any better?" The German crossed his arms to disagree, but in doing so he found out the mystery to why he was so cold. A few blurts of surprise, Ludwig sat up and scooted himself to the opposite side of the couch.

"Vhat- vhat are you toing?" He managed to cough out. Being the certain eye and hair color he was, it was really obvious he was blushing like mad. Why was Italy undressing him? And if he asked, would he like the answer? Eying his shirt and other wearables on the adjacent coffee table, he grabbed them to cover his nakedness. "Italy... you, you- you-"

"Yes~?"

"You-"

"Yes?"

"You-"

"Yes?"

This happened for awhile. Eventually Germany had enough sense to start redressing himself, which made the Italian whine.

"You know I still love you~ ...right?"

"Of course!" Ludwig felt himself wincing, apparently he's displayed too many emotions today. The meeting sucked, as usual, no one listened to each other. His speech sucked, no matter how loud he shouted no one cared about his latest discovery that Karl-Heinz Kurras was actually a spy. This was an important historical discovery! America sucked, he was the whole reason no one was listening. With his stupid virginity issues and getting people involved. That stuff is private, dammit! Has anyone heard him, Germany complain? Nö!

"You still love me, don't you?" Ludwig stopped buttoning his vest.

"Of course!" Feliciano grabbed him tightly around the waist. Moving his arms accordingly so he could get under as much clothes as possible.

"Wah! I'm so glad!" Ludwig stiffened feeling the other's skin rubbing on his, but in an attempt to keep things mildly stable he grabbed Italy's shoulders so he could adequately face him. If the words adequately and Italy could be in the same sentence... Which it did! Twice!

"Italy, vhat is de matter?"

"Nothing anymore!" Feliciano rubbed his face into Ludwig's chest. "I just thought you were going to hate me and dismiss me as boyfriend material!"

"Vhy vould I to dat?"

"Because, well..." The Italian apparently wasn't expecting a rebound question, and looked coy as he tried to think of the right words. "I'm only..." he bit his lip, "mostly virgin?"

"Mostly firgin?" Ludwig pinched the bridge of his nose. "Vhat?" He inwardly groaned as he saw Feliciano began tearing up again.

"You're so smart! Wah!" He clung harder to Ludwig as his tears went all over the place. "I'm sorry, I was lying! I'm not mostly virgin, I'm mostly not! AH-!" Feliciano stopped crying long enough to hiccup, then started again. "So sorry! I'm so sorrrry!" Growing redder with each passing second, Germany coughed to grab the Italian's attention.

"I-it's alright Italy. I... I don't care about it." Italy's eyes widened as a pink fuzzy background appeared behind him. Germany didn't find any of this natural.

"Really?" He sniffed, wiping fat water droplets from around his eyes.

"Yes!" Germany barked, before correcting himself. "Maybe..." He cleared his throat. "...as long as I don't dink too hard about it."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" He clapped his hands together. "I was just thinking-" He noticed the nervous look growing on Ludwig's face. "What's the matter, Germany?"

"It's noding it's-" He tried to wave Italy's face away.

"Oh, but it does bother you! WAH!" Little water fountains turned on around Italy's eyes. Germany wonders who does the plumbing.

"Dammit Italy, just leafe it alone!" He shook the Italian's shoulders, hoping to shake him out of it. "It's..." He stops. Looking away, blushing. "It's someding else altogeder."

"What are you talking about?" He sniffed.

"It's not you," The lights unnaturally turn from their yellow glow to a more pink. "...it's me."

"No!" Italy's gasp was slightly muffled as he covered his mouth with his hand. "But why?"

"It's embarrassing, I cannot talk about it." Germany finished buttoning up his chest- I mean vest. He forgot about buttoning the shirt underneath. The Italian is just that distracting. Standing up, he picked up his tie from the coffee table and began applying it to his neck.

"You couldn't be..." Italy gasped again. "No?"

"I couldn't be vhat?" He sighed, _My boss is probably wondering where the hell I am by now-_

"Germany, you wouldn't be a virgin, would you?"

Blood rushed to the German's head (the upstairs one, not the downstairs) so fast, Italy could swear steam was leaking from his ears. Which was weird, Ludwig hadn't done that since the industrial age. Germany opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't think of anything to say. Deny? Agree? Call Italy stupid? Scream? Cry? Deny?

"V-Vhat... Vhat lead you to dat conclusion?" He managed to mumble out.

"Oh Germany, there nothing to be ashamed of!" Italy got off of the couch and stood close to Germany. _Very_ close. He also wrapped his arms around Germany to emphasize. "It just makes you extra special!"

_Extra__ special?_ But Germany didn't want to ask. He was afraid what the answer would entail. With Italy's arms around him and everything, he felt like he was about to panic from the implications of where this could be going. Germany wasn't that kind of man!

So. He. Thought.

"If it bothers you so much Germany," Italy tugged on the tie just once for it to undo itself and slip to the floor flawlessly. "I can fix that." Fluttering his eyelashes as he looked up at Germany. Germany felt himself shiver.

"Um, no dank you." Ludwig said with a voice so small and weak, Italy did not catch it as he slipped Germany's jacket off of him. Germany felt himself become ridiculously powerless as the Italian, who ran from every war known to him, herded him back onto the couch. The Italian had strategic genius for things Germany couldn't even imagine-

"Don't worry, I can be _very_ gentle." Italy whispered into Germany's ear as he gently pressed him into the couch. Another shiver along with a feeling Germany wasn't very familiar with, but recognized instantly as it came. Dread rising as he felt the blood rush, he immediately stood back up, hitting Italy's forehead with his own. Feliciano fell back, hitting the coffee table and sliding off of it to the floor.

"Owww~!" Italy sniffed, clutching the back of his head with his hands. Germany groaned a sigh of relief, Italy's whiny voice was back. Grabbing his jacket, Germany made a clumsy attempt at refastening up.

"V-vhat do you think you are toing?" He barked, trying to give the air a sense of familiarity. Italy pulled himself from the floor and sat with Germany. Smile still present.

"Aw Germany," He cooed, giving a playful nudge to Germany's shoulder. "don't worry!"

"Don't vorry vhat?" Germany inwardly flinched to each touch. _Don't give in. Don't give in. Don't give in. My God, if there is anything I shouldn't give into it's this! Don't don't don't don't-_

"Everyone is nervous their first time!" Italy said as if he knew everyone _very_ personally. But it could be Germany being paranoid. In any case, it helped Germany pull away from Italy's touch. Italy too pulled back, sensing the cold icy wall that Germany's back produced. "G-Germany please, what is the matter?"

Silence.

"Germany?"

More silence, but not because Ludwig didn't want to talk to Feliciano, he just didn't know what to say. He loved Italy, yes. But to do _that_, and right here? Sure, he's seen the movies. France's, England's, Russia's, his own... but in reality the concept was very distressing. I mean, on the couch? Who last sat on it? Who would sit on it next? Germany had never seen an uptight, pressed, clutter-phobic, germ-a-phobic, army Sargent ever get laid on the screen. And why should they?

"Germany, you should calm down..." Italy purred into his ear again. Germany shivered. "That's right, come over here~"

Ludwig found his hands shaking as they dipped under Italy's shirt-

"Seme Italy?" Hungary blinked away from the window. Japan didn't.

"When you think about it, it makes sense." He whispered.

"I know why I'm here." Hungary glanced at the sky before looking at the back of Japan's head. "But you?"

"..."

Hungary grinned.

"...I'm only looking out for my friends' safety."

"Sure." She giggled before returning her attention to the matter at hand. Italy may run from fights, talks feminine and do things that seems to be of the more stereotypical female thing. But my God, he is the man in the relationship when it counts.


End file.
